manageable

Four children are not manageable.

Two kids are. Most people have two arms. Three kids are just over the line. Two fit in a shopping cart and with only one on the loose outside the cart, that's still manageable.

Four kids don't. One infant seat takes up the whole seat part of the cart which keeps the driver of the cart from seeing much in any direction. Two on the loose is not even feasible when the two are under 6 and their mother's view is obstructed by a car seat with an infant in it. The things that would be in the cart would all involve food dye and sugar. Perhaps that is why most people stick with two. They don't want more than one is an age category. More than one in diapers.

On one hand, a person shouldn't bite off more than they can chew. Four children under six are definitely more than I can chew. That doesn't mean there aren't lots of maternal parental units can organize and handle four children under six. I know of some of them. Those mothers have careers outside of the home, they participate in hobbies and still have time to write about it. I am not organized all the time. Lots of things catch me off guard and since it takes me at least a day to come up with a solution to almost any situation, this is a problem. If I do have an idea for a crafty creative craft project, there is nearly always one important component missing. Glue or powdered sugar or something like that. Sometimes I remember snacks and water bottles and pack them in the appropriate bag or container. Sometimes all the snack-like items are gone from the pantry. And the water bottles are frozen or missing in action.

See, this is not manageable to have snacks only some of the time or only three of the four parts of a craft project. This is definitely not organization. This creates disasters and catastrophes.

But how I see it, whether you want to see it or not, children, in sequence and quantity, come on God's timetable, even with our best laid plans. So if I find my crew unmanageable right now, God has a plan in mind and probably a whole curriculum of lessons to teach me while they are with me.

So on that note, I'll start with hitting the unmanageable piles of dirty clothing littering the basement. The kitchen however, cannot even be described as unmanageable.

the crew

a family photo (of sorts)

Since the electric ice cream maker was missing a component, the camping ice cream was the obvious (and only other) choice.

Priya and Sam happily fighting over who gets to shake the ice cream ball next.
Since we were also missing peppermint flavoring to make peppermint ice cream, we added a bunch of candy cane to the custard ice cream resulting in sort of peppermint flavored orange ice cream. But it was good and it is gone.

pet lion

Sam came leading Anneka out of the bedroom a minute ago with a plastic coated hanger around her neck.

"I found this nice lion," he announced to Priya, who is making an ark using a lot of scotch tape.

The best part is that the back of Anneka's hair even shortly after being combed, frequently resembles a bit of lion's mane. Today is no exception. In fact, today her hair might challenge even the best of detangling sprays.

Anneka playing with her baby Jesus and the other characters in the Christmas story too (and Priya's foot)

baby Jesus

Anneka looked at a picture of baby Jesus in a book I was reading them last night and when I told her it was baby Jesus, she disagreed.

"No, baby Jesus is at Grandma's," she said.

Apparently earlier that day, they had been playing with the nativity scene at Grandma's.

a little smile

just a tiny smile (and some remnants of lunch)

surely this counts... (and not just gas)

thankful list 2009 (partially)

1 the Reason for my hope

2 people who speak the truth

3 freedoms here most of the rest of world lacks

4 mark

5 my four children

6 understanding family members

7 changing seasons (begrudgingly)

8 almost 10 acres in rural southwest minnesota

9 health

Dear Aunt Rachel,

Thanks for the grape jam! We enjoyed it a lot. Sam thought he needed a third piece of toast with grape jam on it. The jam is just all over my face, but it was good anyway.

love, Anneka

Anneka and her baby Ellie

all present and accounted for, all are not all paying attention.

kind of like a circus.

Oh, how many lives are wasted by people who believe that the Christian life means simply avoiding badness and providing for the family. So there is no adultery, no stealing, no killing, no embezzlement, no fraud--just lots of hard work during the day and lots of TV and PG-13 videos in the evening (during quality family time), and lots of fun stuff on the weekend--woven around the church (mostly). This is life for millions of people. Wasted life. We were created for more, far more.

- from John Piper's Don't Waste Your Life

petting baby Ellie

No, it was not planned that Sam would be wearing a very green shirt and Priya a red. I'm just not that coordinated.

ellie sophia eisfeld

eight pounds, thirteen ounces

november one, two thousand nine

Absorbing a small amount of Vitamin D while the sun was out briefly was Sam, looking for worms and special rocks.

The bonnet wasn't quite warm enough for the weather, but Priya's cold was greatly improved by the short walk we took while the sun shone.

Left to her own devices for a few minutes, Anneka helped herself to my eye pencil and decorated herself a few days early. She dressed herself too with the coordinating tank top dress and swimsuit coverup.

a current correlation

Said H.L. Mencken (1880-1965):
The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed (and hence clamorous to be led to safety) by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary.”

pumpkin patch

It's ironic that we would go to a place twice in a few days that I probably would never voluntarily pack up my children and visit unless there was another reason to go - like going with the cousins on Saturday or a school field trip on Tuesday.

But the goats were a highlight for Priya at the pumpkin patch.

Anneka liked riding the rubber tire horse.



It's also ironic that at the pumpkin patch where the entrance fee would cover at least a half dozen packets of pumpkin seeds, taking home a pumpkin required an extra fee.



Why are kids so attracted to pumpkins? Mine have been pointing them out of yards near and wide for weeks. And the 6 or 8 of varying sizes we have acquired are certainly not enough.



I hope I remember next May to dig a large patch somewhere and plant about a half dozen packets of all kinds of pumpkins. I will be rich in October after we sell 15 or 2o.

apples

• apples with caramel

• apples with cream cheese caramel dip

• apple slices

"an apple a day keeps the doctor away", as the saying goes, and we'd like to keep our distance.

not broken

We bought our black Grand Prix when it was nearly new with only about 30,ooo miles. We had extra income then and no children. We've added some knicks and scraps and results of some temper fits on the inside and about 150,ooo more miles. On the outside it needs a few fixes too.

But we would be fools to drive it to the junk yard, turn it in for scrap and take out a loan to buy something brand new just because it needs a new gas gauge sensor and the bumper crack fixed or $1500 of .

I can't help but think this applies to quite a few things nationally, not the least of which is health care reform. Having said that, I will disclaim that I am no expert on health care insurance. In the last 9 years, we've had the privilege of using it only for the birth of our children and for their recommended well-baby checks and I count that a huge, gigantic blessing. I seriously shudder to think of having to use it for anything more than that. Many others haven't been blessed in that regard.

But surely, in a country like ours where we have many, many options when we are sick, we shouldn't have to trade in the entire entity where we have lots of choices - some good, some not depending on the person and the situation, for limited - if any choice.

It's like us taking us junking the Grand Prix which has outstanding stability on snow and icy roads and for which we know all of its faults and picking something that each salesman gives us a different story on. One says it came from Florida and had only one owner. The next guys tells us it was a loaner vehicle. While another assures us it was a local trade.

Oh, don't mistake me for saying we don't need improvement in our health care system. Of course, anything created by humans is full of cracks and craters. But why should the whole system be discarded with no regard to its list of good qualities?

There must be some smart people who already have a million good solutions that wouldn't cost us trillions and might even save us at the very least millions.

October 10, 2009
snow and 23 degrees

indecisive and divisive

From Charles Krauthammer weekly column "Young Hamlet's Agony" on the current Commander-in-Chief and his current waffling on the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan comes this telling statement:

"Does anything he says remain operative beyond the fading of the audience applause?"

How ironic then, that this morning's news headline is that he is also the winner of the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize.

one missing

No, she's not missing but her little baby tooth is.

self control

Hmmm....this was just a bit more than convicting for me. The best part is where Josh Harris goes through why he didn't hear from God because he got distracted checking e-mail!

It would be great if I would be saavy enough to figure out how to put the actual video on here. But this hasn't been a good week for developing technical skills, in fact they are slipping further and further. There's the lawnmower incident and the basement lightbulb incident...but I digress.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EzxmMvbBilM

words

With four fingers pointing back at myself, the verse in Proverbs (10:19 to be exact) came to mind this morning after I perused the news headlines:

In the multitude of words, transgression in unavoidable, but he who restrains his lips is wise. (NASB)

Am I the only one not listening to a great crowd of our national leaders who think that a plethora of words completely void of action can even make a drop of difference? It reminds me of watching cartoons on mute. Or a puppet show where the puppeteers are merely practicing making their puppets mouths move without practicing the actual script.

Here's just another jolting reminder by way of someone else's missteps to watch myself...

pockets

Having acquired a small ziploc baggie of tiny special rocks (that I suspect came from the playground) from Priya, Sam asked if I would let him change into some shorts with pockets.

They should be safe until I wash them next week sometime.

responsible

Just for the record, I have nothing against public transportation, against those who use public transportation or any other public services for that matter. Lots of them turned out to be good citizens - better than I, including Mark. Perhaps I read too much national and world news and perhaps I fall into that group of suspicious, wary individuals who are always anticipating the worst,slathering on sunscreen in January before dressing in six layers, wearing chore gloves to the grocery store so as not to pick up germs or generally mingling in public with a surgery mask to avoid the current alleged epidemic. Perhaps, except I don't do any of those things.

But perhaps I mostly feel a great burden of responsibility to keep my children safe and under our care, as their parents.

I am quite certain that it must be the strangest oddity ever to nearly every one I talk to that my five-year old doesn't get on the bus at 7 a.m. to ride to school and back on at the end of the day to come back home 9 hours later.

"Won't that break up your day to have to drive her to school and back?"
" Well maybe later on in the year, she can ride the bus."

Due to the fact that I haven't completely formulated a stellar (polite) comeback and the people who keep asking are dear people to me, I've simply nodded so far and assure them that the 2-1/2 miles to town isn't far and doesn't inconvenience me much and we know no other kids who are on the bus.

That's a relatively small thing. Until the day when something happens during that hour in the morning and hour in the afternoon. Then there's no going back for a redo. The damage has been done. It might be just a word learned that doesn't fit in our vocabulary here at home. Or it might be something bigger. Something that requires counseling. Then the 12 minutes it takes me morning and the 12 minutes in the afternoon to drive into town to pick her up isn't such a big deal.

I am firmly of the opinion that Mark and I are responsible for the minds and hearts of our children. They were not accidents that I happened after a one-night stand or as a result of a poorly thought out illicit relationship. Their birthdays are not perfectly choreographed for the proper mental fortitude of their parents but their existences are not by-products. That also means that we are responsible for where we send our kids, who influences them and anything that goes on while they not under our watch.

Nobody would take three or four or five little chicks and pitch them outside to fend for themselves. Even the most polite dog would be tempted to do wrong. What would they know about finding shelter during a storm? How would they fight off an attacker? How would they know who to follow?

So the bus really is a big deal. It's just a piece of being responsible for our kids. It's not the church's job to teach them religion. It's not the school's job to make sure they are learning right. It's not the government's job to give them everything else. It's our job. The church can help. The school can assist with the learning. The government can be used for emergencies. But if we are not active in being responsible, we are expecting to put our full weight on a one or two-legged chair.

That's my story and I'm sticking by it.

first day

I resisted the suggestion to take the picture in front of the school since getting there before 7:45 a.m. when other children might be arriving would have been a trick in itself for us.

But our unpainted barn surely is a worthy substitute.

As of yesterday, her second day, she still claims it doesn't really seem like school but more like Vacation Bible School. What I can gather is she was expecting more academics so far. And she keeps asking if we can work on her workbooks at home in the evening.

I guess paying tuition wouldn't be the worst thing ever for something akin to VBS.

belittle

I wish to thank our current commander-in-chief and his administration for yet another unknowing lesson in child-rearing recently. Here's what I know:

Priya defines the opinionated child role perfectly. Unless she thinks what I am suggesting to her is a good idea, forget about getting any results or action out of her. My tendency to get her motivated is to place a few stipulations on behavior or certain action I wish or don't wish to see. "Stipulations" is such a nice clean-cut word because "threats" might better define what really occurs. On rare occasions, worse things happen that don't really cause any results either.

And I'm not sure smooth results are sliding from the current administration and his followers habit lately of calling those who disagree and their ideas, names. For sure, that'll get the dander up of anyone who is included in the dissenting. Then they rant and rave to their friends who might also see their point of view and start ranting and raving too. Besides we used to live in a democracy where the average citizen used to have a little hope in voicing their opinion without worrying about scary-looking government employees tracking them down and taking away their birthdays.

Anyway, my observation is boiled down to this: While I haven't come up with any other strategies that are fool-proof for getting her to do something if she is so inclined against it, I was reminded again by our President, of the insanity and foolishness of talking loud and belittling. I wonder if he tries these same lines to get his girls to pick up their dirty underwear and Barbie dolls.

fowl

See that small bird in the middle of the lawn that probably needs mowing and the hog house that definitely needs paint. She made history this week. Not anything that would even get covered in the Fulda Free Press, just with Priya and Sam.

Ever since the guy that sold us her and her five companions promised they would lay colored eggs, the kids have been waiting. The six plain brown ones we bought at the same time have been laying for two or three weeks - plain dark brown eggs.

I have even been wondering if perhaps we would need to put some chicken in the freezer for winter since the speckled pigeon-looking ones hadn't seemed to lay yet. But Priya came rushing in two days ago with two small greenish-blue eggs.

In other news also this week, this fine black specimen with the feathers on his legs is definitely a rooster. Since we haven't ever worked in the chicken hatching business and have no expertise in gender determination, we do the next best thing - wait for it to crow. He did this week. Although we've had our suspicious after observing some other roosterly activities earlier, the issue is now settled. This is his 3rd grade picture because he has grown about six more inches and developed most splendid plumes on his tail.


His duties in his current position as head and only rooster may not be as certain for a couple reasons. First being, my opinion, developed from several unfortunate instances in my younger years involving several fighting roosters and a jumping-from-the-rafter rooster. In fact I don't ever remember having a nice pleasant friendly rooster at all. Maybe they don't exist.

As the curator and main wage earner who has to buy the feed for worthless and worthwhile animals, Mark is always on the look-out for ways to trim costs and keep the stock mostly limited to critters who actually do something productive. This raven beauty (as seen above) is definitely on the "worthless" list alive, probably several places above the two rabbits and the kitten that live here.

This puts another twist on the phrase "better dead than alive" - as in warm steaming chicken noodle soup or aromatic roasted chicken on a Sunday noon.

Liberals never, ever drop a heinous idea; they just change the name. "Abortion" becomes "choice," "communist" becomes "progressive," "communist dictatorship" becomes "people's democratic republic" and "Nikita Khrushchev" becomes "Barack Obama." (Ann Coulter, September 3, 2009, Liberal Lies About National Health Care: Third in a Series )

inconsistent consistency

Although I can agree with the current president on almost nothing, I can thank him for one rather consistent thing: his nearly daily reminders to one of my most fatal parenting flaws - inconsistency.

For me, most any word or sentence or phrase that comes out of our commander-in-chief's mouth comes out in the same tone that the intercom at the airport when I'm not on any of their flights- having no relevance. Too many empty promises. Too much rhetoric. Commanding sounding, but empty of significance.

And that's me. Is it that there are too many small children each needing constant guidance at the same time? Have they heard me talk so much about good behavior and finishing little chores and respecting their siblings and not seen me do the same that my words are irrelevant?

Is that why they currently have escaped outside after I gave another small speech about the disarray just one floor and four rooms of the house are and that they are mostly responsible for the dolls, books, play dishes and plastic animals scattered everywhere?

So while it's certainly not good for the country, I reluctantly admit the multitude of promises and absense of the fulfillment of those promises jars me to introspection.

Now if only the solutions I see for him would be as clear-cut as those for me...

cooking

I found this interesting article the other day. Ironically, it coincided with my frustration at all the dirty dishes that are constantly piled up on my sink counter.

Although I have been somewhat close several times to resorting to the frozen food section in the grocery store just to save some time - cooking and cleaning up - I haven't yet. While fish sticks, tator tots, chicken wads and patties and frozen pizzas look so tasty and greasy and palatable, I fear I may never come back once I start the pattern of their place in my grocery cart. Besides that what would I have to nag the kids about at dinner time. Their plates would always be clean, licked clean of fish stick crumbs. But I don't think simply carbs and salt can be considered nutrition.

So really soon here, I'm going to wash some more sticky pans and dirty utensils and clear a small spot off the counter for the next round. I would hate to have so much extra time from eating out the frozen food section, that I'd be tempted to do things like offer long commentaries on how proper child raising should be done or get ideas about assembling a cookbook of the best recipes I know.

Then I would feel the need to add a part-time job to pay for the membership at the gym to work off the extra pounds due to chicken wads and ranch dip. And we all know what happens when one spends too much time at the gym: less time for cooking real food and more time spent in the frozen food section choosing between Tyson or Hy-Vee fish sticks.

fashion

It's all about what you chose to put on your feet.

queen of fashion

Priya has long possessed an uncanny ability to come up with outfits that are 1) out of season and/or 2) lacking in coordination. She will always tend toward the sticky thrift store bargain basket knit coordinate outfit from a decade ago's style. The kind in shades of turquoise and hot pink and black with a ruffle around the bottom of the shirt. There's absolutely nothing wrong with this sort of fashion when it comes down to clothes or no clothes, but when so many more modern and superior fashions are just as cheap and easy to acquire, I tend toward those. And besides, anything in the same fashion decade with mullets and big bangs and stonewash is to be avoided in my opinion.

But Anneka, as the third child, gets under the radar often and escapes into semi-public - the yard- with some even more memorable get-ups. Last week, when it started to sprinkle, Priya took that as the cue to put raincoats on herself and her younger sister. She spent most of the hours after supper around the yard in her yellow bee raincoat - and nothing else but a diaper and shoes. At one point when we were rounding up the crew for bed, she emerged from the ditch - in her raincoat - where she had found some mulberries on her level to pick and eat.

This morning after we got to church, she crawled over to sit on my lap. I noticed that after we had put her dress on, she had helped herself into a pair of Priya's gray knit shorts. When the tag was in the back and her dress was long enough that they didn't show, it was okay that they were inside out. I guess she figured since this dress didn't have a bum cover to go with it like many of her other dresses, she'd just have to improvise.

population

I do understand why people get momentarily distracted and jump on the overpopulation myth bandwagon. One may even find his or her thoughts heading that direction after a particularly challenging family reunion or an afternoon of supervising a whole herd of children.

One child is so manageable, in my humble opinion. The diaper bag or backpack is well-stocked with any possible situation in mind. There's always an extra diaper and set of clothes. Snacks are stored in colorful snap-lid containers. Sippy cups are coordinated and full of fresh beverage.

But when God was thinking about developing my character, He knew full well that if my family was contained to one child, I would wax way too eloquent about what works in discipline, teething, sleeping and all those other areas that I would have extra time to contemplate and philosophize about. That would also leave me far too much time to criticize other people's kids.

Currently, I just have theories - that are in constant change. And many times I don't even have a theory - especially in the areas of sleep and discipline and behavior in the car. Like the other day when Sam spent the better part of an hour howling about absolutely nothing important - I told him he needed to go to use the little boys room before he went outside. My response wasn't much better and I'm sure our neighbor that Mark happened to be talking to outside the house wondered if he should offer Mark a quiet place for the night.

You know how you start looking for things to support a certain position that you have come to find truth in. That position is that we have more than 2.5 children and don't drive a solar-powered two-seater and in some people's minds, we are actively responsible for overpopulation.

As a side note however, I wonder if any of those learned individuals who have also waxed eloquent on the subject of population are ever from states likes South Dakota or Wyoming or Texas. I suspect they live in high rises, work in high rises, exercise in high rises and vacation in high rises. And speaking of Texas, this website claims all 6 billion of the world's people would all fit inside the state of Texas each with a 33' X 33" spot of ground to live on, with the rest of the world open for exploration and development. Hmmm....those darn facts get in the way of some theories all the time.

That's no excuse for people who bring many children into the world by different fathers and mothers and expect the government to pick up the tab in raising them. That's also no excuse, in my opinion, for people who keep on having babies simply because like the baby stage of human development. The baby stage may be the shortest stage on all in a person's life.

And finally could I argue that in those places where there might be too many people living, the problem isn't too many people. The problem is that those people have chosen or are ignorant of the principles God has given us for living.

Before you get the impression that I have it all together - you know, that my children are always fully-dressed appropriately for the occasion, well-behaved in social settings and otherwise, and that our property is well-manicured and immaculately organized inside and out - forget it. Most of the time, none of those things are all in place and all of the time a few are out of place.

All my ranting is idle and empty if we are not on the same page about a God who is in charge of everything. I know God is sovereign. He is still in control of populations and water supply and heating and cooling of the planet and how He is developing my character. For me, He has chosen to bless me with a pile of children to help teach me about His character, His relationship with me and how He wants my character to be like His. And from that perspective, I am not using up too much water or taking up too much space.

feeding the boys

critters

Have you ever seen a baby striped gopher? The one straggling around the yard this morning looked pretty pathetic. It was wet mainly - probably from being slung around by the dog. It's relatives come out and play tag almost anytime we are out mowing the lawn. Tag requires at least two to play, you know, and they do play in groups as the mower careens dangerously close to pinching off their games.

And it wouldn't be all bad if Molly had a special snack this morning - that is if dogs eat gophers. We have quite a family tree of them around.

And in other wild animal news...yesterday - or was it the day before - the kids found a dead or half-dead bat on the sidewalk. Due to the sensitive nature of its appearance today, I didn't take a picture. Sam noted that it didn't have wings anymore this morning. I guess I should bury it. Maybe by tomorrow, I won't have to bury it. It's quite warm today.

at the lake

television

Just a couple days ago, I was talking to a woman from the company we get telephone and internet service. She reminded me that I now qualify for cable or dish service - whatever it is they offer (I can never keep those two differences straight). I said I would pass on that. She asked who is providing that service currently. I told her our TV has been in its box in the basement for several months. After a moment of hesitation, she told me that if I decided I wanted it, it would cost me only an extra $15.

I've thought many times about why we don't have 110 or 300 stations beaming into our living room.(and I guess we'd save $15 now that I know how much it would cost.)

1. I most surely would fall asleep watching by 7 p.m. just like nursing home residents do.
2. The big picture window to the west and the computer desk to the east allow no room for the TV in this house. How awkward would it be to watch TV against the setting sun. We'd all go blind, except for me because I would be sleeping.
3. I have no brain cells to spare as it is. If I waste my time listening to stuff for pure amusement (a - without and muse - to think) and finding myself filling my mind with off-colored innuendo (which even the best of shows can't part with), what's left is a whole lot of nothing. There'd be no place to go but the couch in really stretchy pants with boxes of bon-bons every afternoon to catch up on the soaps.
4. I hate getting interrupted by commercials.
5. The jangle of a TV prattling on and on is annoying to me. Silence, occasionally, in my line of work, is golden.

While I'm a prude about other things, I don't avoid TV in our house purely for that reason. Cooking shows are very inspiring. In fact, there probably would be all observing and no actual cooking in our house if we did have those channels. I could also blow any number of hours listening to a certain news station. And there are probably plenty of righteous upright followers of Jesus who can watch lots of programming on any number of topics and still be righteous and upright followers of Jesus. I'm not that talented.

And then tonight I read this by John Piper. And I didn't feel quite as odd about my television habits.

kiddie pool

Could I be so bold as to assume summer is here? Perhaps for the time being.

cheerios, circuses and fools

Somebody once said, "There's a sucker born every minute." It wasn't P.T. Barnum, the circus guy who this quote is usually credited to and here's the story of that.

But I thought of that quote this morning when I read the Fox News story of the FDA and Cheerios. The FDA is calling Cheerios a drug because "the product is intended for use in the prevention, mitigation and treatment of disease."

First, would it be so bad, in all honesty, if more overweight, under-exercised, fleshy Americans loaded up on Cheerios and milk. Well, say, opposed to loading up on cheese puffs or soda or TV dinners with their claiming corn as a vegetable and oversalted gravy. Certainly even with the effects of marshmallows and peanut butter, Cheerios have to have more nutrition than a bag of tooty frooties with food coloring and mass amounts of sugar.

Next I would like to address people's intelligence. I appreciate that the government is trying to look out for us making bad choices such as eating too many Cheerios and thinking they will fix our health problems. But maybe, as an individual, I would like to choose what I think makes me healthy. If I want to harvest ditch flowers, dry them and crunch them up in my cereal and drink them steeped in hot water, isn't that my prerogative? And what works for one person's cholesterol, maybe doesn't work for the next guys high readings. Does it nullify the positive results for some if not all get the same dramatic results? On average, the FDA must think the average person is so lame-brained stupid, they now need the government choosing their breakfast cereal for them.

I will repeat my observations, which are by not means scientific: perhaps the government and more specifically our current reigning regime could well head their own advice and cut back on their own petty projects and bloated payrolls. If they have time to skip the really important issues and instead go after silly stuff, perhaps those employees could better serve the general public elsewhere.

And while I'm grocery shopping next, I'll be sure to stock up on Cheerios. For the same reason, we recently bought an SUV. They may soon be a collectors item.

improvising

Improvising is one of the first signs that you're confident in the kitchen. Pamela Mitchell, executive food editor of Everyday with Rachael Ray

I wonder if she would stick by that statement if she observed my version of improvising. But, on the other hand, if she approves a recipe for nachos that includes broccoli florets and cannellini beans (p. 46 of the April 2009 issue), she might offer me a job.

I keep thinking about George Tiller. He's the reknown late-term abortion doctor in Wichita who was shot yesterday morning while ushering in parishioners at his church.

On one hand, perhaps mercifully today - and maybe only today - a few tiny lives will be given another day to live. Those appointments that were on his calendar today. Maybe this day of grace the moms of those little ones will hear something, hear someone or Someone who calls them to make a better choice. Maybe today, the opportunity can slip in to reveal just how valuable they are and the little one scheduled for death today.

From what I've read, Tiller's purpose in life seems to be to help women facing motherhood in the upcoming weeks or few months bypass that responsibility. From his own statistics to the state of Kansas, many, if not a majority, of small babies he has poisoned (his preferred method of abortion) and slaughtered, were viable (they could live outside the womb) and were removed from the wombs of their mothers for their "mothers health". Her mental health, that is, not because her life was in danger because of the pregnancy - elective abortion.

Among his accomplishments, according to his own admission, are over 2700 abortion done between the 1994 and 1997 with the AVERAGE gestational age of the baby at 27 weeks. On average, of the approximately 600 post-15 week gestational age babies he snuffs out each year, about 150 or so are named as fetal abnormalities. One of his former employees, put that number perhaps higher, testifying that she estimated 95% of the babies she saw aborted were perfectly healthy.

On the other hand, oh how horribly wretchedly tragic for a man who has made his living taking innocent, vulnerable lives specially created by his Maker for the past 36 years to meet his Maker before he had things straightened out with his Maker. Perhaps he did have a last minute opportunity to make amends before 10 a.m. yesterday morning. And how ironic that Mr. Tiller breathed his last while in church.

Most alarming however are the words of a fellow late-term abortionist in Colorado, Dr. Warren Hern who claimed that Tiller's death is the "inevitable and predictable consequence of decades of anti-abortion" rhetoric and violence.

Oh how ironic that men who have profited greatly from the legalized violence and brutality against 40 million+ in the last three and a half decades would decry those who defend the rights of tiny unborn babies and the dignity and significance of their moms, offering hope and a peaceful solution at a difficult point in their lives.

reptile

Could it be that I would be part reptile due to the fact that whenever the sky is gray and the thermometer drops below 55 I become lethergic and listless and unmotivated? Or perhaps a better explanation for such a problem is that I am simply unmotivated?

Yep, that's probably it.

Or maybe I just need to spend a little quality VHS tape time with Cindy Crawford or Elle McPherson and if I put on leotards and Reebok princess athletic shoes I would naturally feel warmer on days like this?

When the upstairs is finished and the basement has some living space in it again, maybe I'll check the thrift store for that $3 exercise step I saw on Saturday and make a little fitness room for myself.

Stepping to Cindy Crawford in the dark, dampness of the basement is sure to boost my motivation.

unqualified

It's quite obvious, among other lessons to be learned from such a situation, that family services and the legal system has way too many on staff and way too much money on their hands. In this story from New Ulm, 13-year old Daniel Hauser was diagnosed with cancer. When the family tried traditional chemotherapy to treat it and CHOSE to discontinue that and go with another treatment, the family doctor turned the Hauser family into Family Services.

A Brown County judge spent 58 pages on a ruling today that details why the family must be forced to go back to the chemotherapy to treat their son. The threat to remove the boy from his Catholic homeschooling family of 7 other siblings remains unless his family complies.

My argument is not about the best treatment for cancer, although I might wax eloquent in at least 58 pages on this topic of medicine and the failings of chemotherapy on just the people I am related to and are friends of mine.

Are there no children actually being neglected by parents under the influence of anything in excess or illegal in the New Ulm area?

How about any left alone for many hours without adult supervision on Friday and Saturday nights?

Perhaps even one of two might be going home from school Friday afternoon without hope of a meal until they go back to school Monday morning because their parents are engaged otherwise?

Surely there must be something else for these officials to devote their time to. Perhaps the money spent fighting a family trying to raise their kids in the best way they know how could be better spent making Saturday lunches for kids whose parents actually are absent. Although I am surely at the top of the list of folks not in favor of government handouts, surely there is some program some bright family services employee could conjur up to keep small kids off the streets when they should be in bed and while there parents are living the "good life" downtown.

Or... perhaps those problems are too numerous and too complicated and it's much easier to pick on a family where they could actually do some harm...I mean think they are doing something beneficial.

Silly as it might seem now, what if some well-meaning child services employee sees me feeding my kids grainy bread sandwiches and apples at the park some afternoon and feels they are being neglected and deprived because they should eat be eating white bread and twinkies? Will I be the next target? What if I don't run my kid to clog up the clinic everytime they have a sniffle or fever and chose instead let them rest in the comfort of home and give out a few extra vitamins? Will that be considered "medical neglect" as Colleen and Anthony Hauser are accused of?

Thankfully, God is still on His throne and He is still in charge. Oh but I shutter and tremble to think of the implications of the government superceding God-fearing honest parents' judgment. Their track record with nearly every other category is dismal at best. How are they qualified to make demands on how I raise my children?

She's the one...

...who did the damage...

...caught in the act in broad daylight, while I was watching.

If I had a quarter for everytime the kids checked the rhubarb this week and asked if they could pick it yet, I'd had enough to buy many strawberries for strawberry-rhubarb jam. Maybe we'll have to wait a little longer.

gopher watching